


In Common

by The_Pink_Argyle



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-07-22 20:04:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7452247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Pink_Argyle/pseuds/The_Pink_Argyle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cat Grant has been consumed by thoughts of Supergirl. Is her subconscious mind trying to tip her off to the truth? Or has fantasy blurred with reality?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little bit of fun because I am deeply afraid the best part of the show (for me, at least) is about to be killed off next season. Let's sincerely hope not!!! LONG LIVE SUPERCAT.

The cool, westerly wind of nightfall reaches the executive balcony of Catco’s corporate headquarters. Battling the violet-hued horizon for attention, the illuminated skyscraper stands alongside its concrete and glass cousins in uneven order. It is without question the perfect National City postcard.

“If anyone even sends such visual dispatches anymore,” thought Cat Grant as she admires the view and reclines gracefully on her over-stuffed lounge chair. The company’s CEO and sovereign queen of all media is young enough to be digitally savvy yet old enough to miss the tactile beauty of paper and ink.

While savoring the last few drops of her select single malt, Cat muses on the colossal communications change witnessed during her lifetime for only another minute or so before turning her attention back to another historic happening; back to her favorite feminine fix.

“Supergirl.”

The title slips past her lips in a hushed whisper as she scans the heavens for her addictive heroine. Only the blinking light of a slow-moving satellite catches her eye. The wisp of a woman wonders if it belongs to her vast business empire. Then, wonders if Supergirl is also a part of that empire. The irony of David Bowie’s, _Loving the Alien_ playing in her earbuds is not lost on Cat.

“Hmm, you’re probably off saving the world from some insect-like creature spitting acid fire from its maw… or saving it from a presidential candidate.”

She subdues a chuckle and turns it into a groan. The idea of having to do actual work bores her but, alas, it must be done. With a flourish of her finger, Cat half-heartedly scrolls through her tablet and peruses the articles submitted by her over-eager editors.

“No. No. No. A remote a possibility. God, no! Where on earth did these children go to J-school?”

Cat tosses aside the tablet and huffs in agitation as she notices the now-empty drink glass. The song on her playlist has changed to _In Common_ by Alicia Keys. She debates the attributes of imbibing more hard liquor versus coffee while listening to the tune with a critical ear.

“Oh, Alicia, I relish the calypso beat and subtle Sade tribute… if Sade had smoked a pack of helium balloons instead of menthols!”

Cat casually cocks her head to the side and lowers her reading glasses. She lets her mind wander with the lyrics.

**_Look at you, look at you_ **

**_Look what you made me do_ **

Suddenly, the words ignite powerful images of her recent interactions with Supergirl. Always there. And always at the right time.

**_How do you, how do you think know my every move_ **

The mental montage continues with both pleasant and unsettling memories. The red kryptonite influenced balcony toss was both frightening and exhilarating, if truth be told.

**_Who are you Who are you You look so familiar_ **

The face of her executive assistant now intermingles with that of Supergirl.

**_I know you, I know you…_ **

Cat remembers standing before the young woman as she complies with the demand to take off her glasses and let down her hair.

**_…baby, I know the truth_ **

“Of course, I know… Kara.”

The exasperated older woman bolts up out of her chair and attempts to push the introspection away.

**_We got way too much in common_ **

**_If I'm being honest with you_ **

“You must think me a fool.”

**_We got way too much in common_ **

**_Since I'm being honest with you_ **

“And I am a fool for letting you think so.”

**_Who wants to love somebody like me?_ **

**_You wanna love somebody like me?_ **

**_If you could love somebody like me_ **

**_You must be messed up too_ **

“But I will continue to indulge this silly charade for your sake, Supergirl…”

**_Who wants to love somebody like me?_ **

**_You wanna love somebody like me?_ **

**_If you could love somebody like me_ **

**_You must be messed up too_ **

“… and mine.”

Hastily popping out her earbuds, le grande Grant heads over to the far end of the balcony. Her high heels click clack with authority along the way. With arms outstretched against the railing, she looks up and searches the dark air one last time. There is nothing but a crescent moon and the buzz of a patrol helicopter as it fades into the distance. Cat closes her eyes for a moment and sighs.

“Dammit, where are you?”

Seconds later, she feels a slight breeze directly in back of her. It is not the kind caused by barometric pressure. The left edge of her lip curls into a smirk as she deliberately does not turn around. Instead, Cat keeps her position ogling the cosmos as two strong hands slowly snake around her waist to hold her. A known female voice answers softly.

“I’m right here.”


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm right here."

There is a long moment of silence as Cat leans back into Supergirl's solid body for support.

"And so you are..."

The diminutive diva and her extraterrestrial ingenue remain motionless except for their respiration which is now elevated and in tandem. Whether it is due to all of the near-death disasters or a simple change in seasons, their recent rooftop rendezvouses have grown increasingly more handsy. And neither one is complaining.

"Did you need me tonight, Ms. Grant?"

The question is not an innocent one by any means. The tone, timbre, and texture betray its true intention. What the media maven thought were protective palm placements on her hips are suddenly more charged as they lower and linger. Cat reluctantly pauses the advance by interlocking her fingers with Supergirl’s.

"Need... want... it’s a matter of definition.”

“Should I rephrase the question?”  

“It’s not necessary, you’re here with me now and that’s what matters,” answers Cat still looking out over the balcony.

She massages the firm fingers flittering with her own. Locks of the heroine’s hair tickle the top of her left shoulder as she feels the younger woman’s cheek brush against the side of hers. A faint assent is hotly whispered in her ear.

“Okay.”

The arousal level in Cat is steadily climbing but she continues to play it cool.

“I saw nothing on the feeds earlier about an unfortunate situation requiring your intervention, so…”

The two begin to sway together. There is a smile in Supergirl’s voice.  

“So… is that your roundabout way of saying you missed me?”

“Hmm… possibly.” 

Supergirl’s hands gently break free from their mutual clasp and begin another advance. This time, it is elevated and abdominal in nature. Slow, circular motions creep under the silver silk blouse and make contact with smooth skin. The shakiness in Cat’s voice is a telltale sign of her resistance level.

“I suppose… I have grown…”

The outline of her lower ribcage is being steadily traced as she attempts to finish her sentence.

“Oh… so accustomed… to our…”

A stray finger slides up her sternum.

“Nnnah… nocturnal tête-à-tête, that I am…”

Cat’s black lace bra pops free from is fasteners.

“Ahh… aware… when your presence…”

Supergirl zeros in on the taut tips of her intended target.

“…issss absent.”

The younger woman intensifies her digital manipulation as she poses a sultry query.

"Are you aware of my presence now?”

The older woman gasps into laughter.

“Keenly!”

The two continue to revel in the erotic until Cat sighs and halts the hands in place. She still refuses to turn around.

“Not that I wasn’t enjoying your newly discovered rolling and pinching talents but we do not need that image sent out to the masses.”

“I have a feeling it would get a lot of likes.”

“My, my, you must have learned your demographic astuteness in your day job.”

Supergirl does not bite at the bait. Instead, she responds by tightening her embrace.

“It’s more like I have a brilliant rooftop mentor at night.”

Cat chuckles at the verbal chess match and now leans all of her body weight against Supergirl.

“Usually, I would be in favor of total transparency, but not this, not now.”

“Why?”

Tightly holding the upper arms surrounding hers, the Catco CEO surrenders to veracity.

“Because this is all ours and ours alone… for now.”

The seriousness of the statement is felt as they begin to float a few inches in the air. Cat realizes her feet are no longer touching the ground and signals to be put down.

“As much as I would like to fly off into the night with you, I get motion sickness and I had a subpar seafood paella for dinner.”

They safely settle back on the cement. With their aerial interlude interrupted, Supergirl nods to the sky and points to a cluster of stars adjacent to Orion’s belt.

“I wish I could have shown you Krypton.”

Cat continues to hold Supergirl’s hand as she finally turns around and faces her. Brushing back an errant strand of hair from her heroine’s forehead, the sagacious woman offers a wide smile and glistening eyes. 

“You show me Krypton everyday in who you are and what you do.”

Moved by such raw honesty, the daughter of the destroyed planet leans in to kiss the humbled human before her. But, this is Cat Grant and Cat Grant knows the art of a good tease. She dodges the eager lips at the last second and struts away.

“Now that we have established that you have come from an incredibly boring planet, I believe it is time for a drink!”

The abrupt cackle of Supergirl prevents Cat from fetching a libation. The sound is too similar to that of her assistant, so she decides to test the topic again at the right opportunity. The younger woman has her hand again and is playfully pulling her back.

“Do you really think I’m boring?”

Cat indulges the mock tug-of-war because she knows she would be flung halfway to Hawaii if real strength were involved. The distance between them immediately closes.

“Well, maybe boring isn’t the right word.”

Once again, Cat is happily trapped between Supergirl and the balcony railing. This time, she does not reject the nuzzling of her neck. The older woman tries to keep her composure but it is a losing battle. She deploys sarcasm as a last ditch defense.

“At first, I thought of you as a golden retriever in a clown costume…”

Supergirl suspends her affection and looks Cat directly in the eye.

“And now?”

“Now, I think of you as a strong, smart, courageous, beautiful woman… in a clown costume.”

“Heh.”

An impish grin crosses Supergirl’s face as she suggestively toys with the diamond rope necklace draped around Cat.

“Fashion differences aside, Ms. Grant, you sure could feed a lot of people with this gaudy jewelry.”

“I donate enough to charity, besides, I cannot help it if I have a penchant for all things shiny… and hard.”

Cat licks her lips and parts them as an open invitation. It is now Supergirl’s turn to taunt as she dips her mouth in to kiss but instead, takes one of the diamonds between her teeth. With one quick crunch, the four-carat stone is instantly pulverized. Before the owner can react, the offender inhales the dust and icily blows it out in steady, gleaming streams across the petite woman’s décolletage.

“Oh, Jesus!”

“Wrong savior, wrong gender.”

A quivering Cat reacts by raising her right leg and wrapping her thigh around her suited suitor’s waist. She knows damn well it is too late to walk this back. Anyone with a camera has already tweeted out the salacious evidence. There is no way to spin or obfuscate or deny what is happening between the two of them. Supergirl slides the necklace off and welds the broken area between her red-hot fingertips.

“I’m sorry, I would offer to pay for this but something tells me you could afford another.”

As badly as Cat wants to quell the conversation and commence with the kissing, she sees an opening she can’t resist.

“You’re right, you couldn't afford it with your paycheck but, apparently, you don’t need the dental plan.”

The junior blonde bristles ever so slightly but it is enough. Her voice remains clam but her eyes avert.

“You keep implying that I work for you, Ms. Grant.”

“Don’t you?”

Before Supergirl can squirm away, Cat clutches the side of her face and guides it back to her own. She reestablishes eye contact and implores her captive for the truth.

“Don’t you… Ka-“

Before she can say the name in full, her breath is suffocated as her tongue is smothered by another. The kiss is long and deep and deliberate but it eventually breaks. Both women open their eyes simultaneously and smile. Cat is confounded and speechless as Supergirl promptly drops to her knees.

“I serve all of humanity… but I wouldn’t mind working under you right now.”

Cat no longer cares if Maxwell Lord or anyone else is live streaming their coupling on every jumbo screen in National City, she can’t get her clothes off fast enough. Whatever this is between them, the country would have to grow up and deal with their intimacy. But, always aware of the longterm repercussions of image perception, she briefly stops her almost lover to issue a calculated command.

“Get up.”

  “What?”

“You heard me.”

“But…”

  “Get up - off of your knees - right now.”

“I… I don’t understand.”

  “Supergirl kneels for no one; not for me, not for a man, not for an enemy, not even for a god - now do you understand?”

“Oh, I do.”  

Awed by the power of her idol’s words, the apprentice obediently rises. Before they resume with the nonverbal communication, a completely naked Cat murmurs softly.

“When you’re with me, be with me as my equal.”  

Supergirl bites her lower lip and smirks as she gazes at the gorgeously nude Ms. Grant wrapped in her arms.

“Well, considering your current state of undress, maybe I should take off my…”

“No!”

  The heroine freezes as Cat takes a step back and scolds her.

“Have you not been paying attention to what I just said?”

Taking a step forward, Supergirl kisses her on the nose.

  “I’ve been a little distracted.”

The media queen returns the grin and kisses the intergalactic immigrant back repeatedly.

“Mmm, me, too…”  

Supergirl protectively pulls her cape around both of them. 

“Maybe you should put some clothes back on.”  

“Oh, honey, it’s too late for me.”

“I haven’t detected anyone watching us yet.”

“It was too late for me decades ago with the spring break/mardi gras photos.”

The Kryptonian looks mortified as Cat seductively traces the S-like insignia between the breasts before her.

“But you, my dear, you need to stay suited up at all times… at least, in public.”

“Got it!”

“What you wear or don’t wear, what tantric sex position you choose or don’t choose in private - between four heavily-fortified walls - is up to you and…”

“And?”

Cat answers Supergirl’s raised eyebrow with head tilt and a raised eyebrow of her own.

“Hmm.”  

The two kiss again.

“Maybe I should fly us to my cousin’s place, it’s a bit cold.”

  “Is it in Minnesota? Canada? - I’d really rather not go to Canada.”

“It’s kind of arctic, actually.”  

“Sex on a slab of ice, that sounds inviting.”  

“Don’t worry, I’d warm you up.”

The amorous alien ardently demonstrates with her superheated hand, massaging its way up between the jaded journalist’s now open legs. A loud moan escapes Cat’s mouth as she guides Supergirl’s hand up even higher. Through ragged breaths and clenched teeth, she manages to make a declaration.

“It doesn’t matter where we are, as long as you’re with me.”

Cat’s climax is rapidly approaching as Supergirl buries her head on her shoulder. The intensity is almost overwhelming but weighted words still manage to form and tumble from her lips.

“Come… come with me, Kara.”

The last word ignites a new yet alarmingly familiar sensation. It is the accelerated decent of falling from the top of her own building.

“KARAAA!!!”

Kaboom.


	3. Chapter 3

Kaboom.

On a lonely two-lane desert road, Cat Grant wrestles with the steering wheel to her red 1969 Jaguar XKE convertible and carefully guides the crippled car to the side of the road.

“Well, that was unfortunate.”

Lowering her oversized tortoiseshell sunglasses, she searches the sandy asphalt in the rearview mirror for the source of the disruption. There, about 100 yards back on the right side of the lane, is a gaping pothole.

“Note to self: find out who the county supervisor is of this ghastly district and publicly shame him or her for highway maintenance dereliction.”

After collecting her nerves with a few deep breaths, Cat carefully steps out of the vehicle and checks for damage. Three of the four tires with their wire rims remain intact. However, the fourth one is mangled beyond recognition and sports a broken axel.

“Perfect.”

A spiny lizard sunning itself on a nearby rock flicks its tongue out at her. She immediately hears her mother’s mocking voice inside of her head.

“That’s what you get, Kitty, for having sexy daydreams about subordinates while driving!”

She answers her own thought out loud.

“Is Supergirl really a subordinate?”

The lizard scampers away as Cat stomps in its direction.

“I spy a scaly reptile and immediately my mother’s voice somehow manifests… coincidence, I think not.”

She is still pretty shaken from the car calamity but more so from the fervid fantasy involving her shining star. All of her sex dreams featuring the fine Kryptonian somehow involve the balcony toss. Maybe it was the loss of control or the thrill of falling through the air. Whatever it was, it always left her dry in the mouth and wet in other places.

“God, I need a drink!”

She fetches a large tumbler of water from the backseat and sips it with disdain since it is severely lacking alcohol.

“The only reason I was attending this grimy gallery opening was for the liquor.”

The rational side of her brain realizes that drinking anything other than water in her current situation is not a smart idea. The other side controlling her hand movements orders them to rummage through the designer tote bag for her emergency platinum-engraved flask. Much to her chagrin, they come up empty.

“Damn, I must have left it in my black clutch.” 

Cat slams an open palm in frustration against the car door as she scans the empty highway for other vehicles. Nothing. She should be figuring out ways to extricate herself but can’t let go of her balcony toss rumination.

Deep down, the media magnate knew Supergirl would come to her Red Kryptonite impaired senses and save her. She also knew she would see her sons again and that her internal organs would not decorate the sidewalk outside of CatCo corporate headquarters.

“Now, that would have been art,” she thought as she takes another swig of water.

Supergirl the hero and Supergirl the brand would mean nothing if Cat did not survive that toss. And Cat did not want to live in a world where that was the case. She also did not want to live in a world where she couldn’t act on her ever-increasing attraction for this confounding creature.

For a brief moment, she closes her eyes and imagines the feel of their kiss. New yet familiar, the ideal balance between tender and bold. Their tongues engaging in an Argentine tango.

“Mmm, I bet you taste like sunshine and anise.”

The voice of her mother suddenly returns.

“For crying out loud, Kitty, enough of that!”

Cat growls at the sky as yet another daydream is violently interrupted. The voice continues.

“You know damn well Kara will continue to plague your thoughts until she comes clean about being Supergirl and, right now, neither one of them is around to save your boney ass!”

The CatCo CEO gargles the last of her water, throws her head back in defeat, and sighs.

“As usual, mother, you are right.”

The elder Ms. Grant was and is the source of many of Cat’s self-destructive behaviors but, for all of her mother’s flaws, she never sent her daughter careening across the galaxy to a new world to babysit her cousin. Being sent off to a French boarding school was as bad as it got.

“You win that one, Supergirl; game, set, and match!” 

She puts the tumbler away and takes out her phone. No bars. She throws it down in disgust but not before checking the current temperature: 111 degrees. National City is located on the edge of high desert territory and hot summer days are not atypical. However, the sweat rivulets pouring off of Cat’s face and down her chest do nothing to cool off her body or temperament.

“I suppose that’s what I get for taking the backroad to an event I did not want to attend in the first place.”

The noise of an approaching engine is heard down the road. Cat turns and spots a Subaru hatchback slowing down to her location. There are two young men, their female companions, and a large bullmastiff inside the car. The driver with his oversized glasses and bushy beard rolls down his window and calls out to her.

“Hey, lady, having a bad day?”

  Everyone chuckles except Cat.

“Your powers of observation are truly exceptional… may I please use your phone?”  

“Sorry, no reception out here.”  

One of the female passengers with multicolored hair calls out in delight.

“We’re off the grid, WOOOOOO.”

“Woo,” Cat sniffs.  

“We’d be happy to give you a lift to the next gas station but you’d have to cram in the back with Moses!”

The panting dog drools and stares at Cat. She considers the offer for a nanosecond and glowers.

“No, thank you, I have a satellite phone somewhere.”  

All four occupants look at her quizzically. One of them finally recognizes her.

“Are you Cat Grant?” 

 Not sure if she should answer truthfully, Cat concocts a believable narrative on cue.

“I’m actually a celebrity lookalike for her.”  

“WHOA,” they all scream in unison.

“I was on my way to a gallery opening when this happened.”

  “You really do look a lot like her, except she seems taller.”

The older woman mutters a string of expletives to herself and then smiles that patented fake showbiz smile.

  “She hires me to attend events she can’t attend herself, I believe she is in Milan right now.”

“That’s too cool!”

“How much do you make?”

“Not nearly enough.”  

“Hey, whatever pays the bills, right?”

“Sure, whatever… thank you all for your good samaritan-ness.”

“Are you sure you don’t wanna ride?”

“I am sure and I will be fine, thank you again.”  

“It’s no prob.”

  Cat grinds her teeth to keep the irritation from escaping.

“-lem, prob-lem, problem, please finish your word and move along to your vegan beer fest, goodbye!”

With a dismissive wave, Cat ends the conversation and the quartet plus canine is on their way with an amiable double horn honk. She can’t help but notice the Oregon State logos and Bernie for president bumperstickers plastered all over the back of the trunk.

“The only thing that annoys me more than hippies, are hipster hippies,” she hisses.

She quickly heads over to the passenger side of her car and opens the glovebox.

“At least they reminded me that I do indeed have a satellite phone.”

She switches it on and dials. A deep male voice answers instantly.

“Yes, Ms. Grant?”

  “It appears I am stuck somewhere southwest of Hell, retrieve me immediately!”

“Checking transponder coordinates… our ETA is 25 minutes.”

  “Make it 10.”

She clicks it off and, once again, her thoughts return to Supergirl. To Kara. And the absurd notion of their relationship evolving into a full-blown love affair. It isn’t completely out of the question. Workplace romances are nothing new and the age difference, although marked, is not out of the question, either.

“Men do it all the time with impunity,” she exclaims to her audience of Joshua trees.

One of Cat’s famous friends is an award-winning actress who is married to a legendary actor decades her senior and no one thinks anything of it. She reflects on her own trysts involving both older men and women. Unfortunately, the young Ms. Grant came of age during a time when sexism from her all-male bosses wasn’t only condoned but expected.

She did a few things - a few men - she wasn’t exactly proud of in order to advance her career. In some cases, she wasn’t given much of an option. However, that was a different time and she consoles herself with the fact that she is not only influencing her sons, but all of her CatCo followers to reject sexual bullying and be respectful of others, as well as themselves.

“Heh, those old goats must be shaking in their shoes now, thanks to social media… I knew it could be put to better uses besides food porn.”

One of her happier couplings occurred when she was a cub reporter for a lesser known periodical. It was solid work and she was given many opportunities. One of them was to interview an international superstar turned political activist. This woman was a quarter century older than herself but it was, by far, one of the hottest romances Cat had ever had in her life.

“The cocaine and champagne helped but she taught me things about my body I never knew were possible.”

The Joshua trees remain silent.

“Ironically, my feelings appear to be coming full circle with you, Kara… the choice will ultimately be yours but I need you to be honest with me about being Supergirl or there will never be a we.”

It is a dreaded conversation Cat practices for and one she knows needs to happen very soon. Her sunglasses are in a losing battle with the glare of the overhead orb but she does notice an eighteen-wheeler delivery truck headed up the road. It is carrying queso chips and sports the company logo of a laughing cactus wearing a poncho.

“Thank God I know how to brand better than that!”

It rumbles and grinds to a halt on the opposite side of the asphalt. The driver deliberately leaves the motor running. This is not a good sign. The cab door swings open and out drops a very burley middle-aged man with a saccharine sweet smile and dark, sour eyes.

“Oh, dear, a delicate little damsel in distress!”

His hands are casually shoved in his denim pockets and his boots crunch the sand underneath. Cat bristles at his gaze. She immediately recognizes this gaze from all of her years of living. Unlike the hipster hippies, this man is no good samaritan. How she wishes she had accepted their ride to the gas station now.

“I appreciate you stopping and your use of alliteration, but there really is no need for your assistance, sir.”

She overemphasizes the last word and scowls at him. Standing behind her car, Cat clandestinely kicks off her high heels in case she has to run or use them as weapons. The man ignores Cat’s comment and defensive stance.

“Huh, I think you are definitely in need of my assistance, sweetheart…”

He searches the highway in both directions for other vehicles. Nothing but a couple of crows flying in the distance. He starts to cross the road toward her. She remains still and holds up a hand in warning.

“I beg to differ, so let me put it another way… get your fat ass back in your truck and continue to haul your artificially-flavored artery cloggers to their intended destination or this will not end well for you!”

“Ooh, feisty, I like feisty!”

He is now on her side of the road. Cat knows no amount of flattery, bribery, threats, or distractions will divert him from his soft target. Even if her team made it under the 25-minute ETA, they would not get to her in time. And there was no sign of Supergirl.

“Then, you leave me no choice…”

Cat casually reaches into her glovebox again. Instead of the satellite phone, she pulls out a .38 S&W special and aims it directly at him. The driver with the beer belly and the pig-like proboscis freezes in his tracks and laughs.

“Well, shit.”   

Cat is not laughing. Even the laughing cactus logo on the side of the truck appears grim. The media maven is no fan of hunting Bambi with an AK-47 but all of her years as a war correspondent for Somalia, Bosnia, and the Persian Gulf have taught her a thing or two about human nature and self preservation. The man sneers and presses his luck.

“C’mon, bitch, it’s not like you’re gonna kill me.”

She releases the safety on the revolver with the pink pearl grip and aims it right at him.

“You’re right, I won’t kill you…”

She cocks the hammer and lowers her aim directly at his nutsack.

“But, I will kill your children.”

“You don’t have the balls.”  

“And, momentarily, neither will you!”  

CRACK


	4. Chapter 4

CRACK.

A single clap of thunder prevents Cat Grant from firing her weapon at the vile truck driver. A relieved smirk erupts on her face as she lowers the gun.

“Fortunately or unfortunately for you, depending on your perspective, a storm is about to hit.”

The dumbfounded dude searches the clear horizon and then regards her in disbelief.  

“You must be smokin’ something, sweetheart, ‘cuz I don’t see a single cloud in the sky.”

“Oh, it’s not the gray cumulonimbus you should be worried about but the carmine and ultramarine mesocyclone that will hit in 3…2…

BAM.

The man is sent flying backwards across the road and is savagely slammed into the laughing cactus logo on the side of his truck.

“You’re late, Supergirl.”

“Sorry, Ms. Grant.”  

Coughing and wheezing, the dazed driver slumps to the asphalt as the steely Kryptonian now stands before him.

“Is this so-called man bothering you?”

“Not any longer, thank you.”

Supergirl snags the driver by the shirt with one finger and yanks him to his feet. His voice is meek as he sputters his words.

“Ppp… please… don’t kill me!”

“I won’t, but the authorities will be teaching you a few lessons.”  

“Let him go,” Cat commands.

“What?”

  Both Supergirl and the truck driver are startled. The older woman struts over to the brute and gets right in his face. She whispers in his ear with a menacing growl.

“As you can see, I have eyes everywhere, I have friends everywhere, and everywhere you are is where I will be if you so much as think about doing something like this again… do you comprehend what I just said?”

The wide-eyed truck driver looks like he is about to lose all bladder and bowel control. Supergirl reaches around his neck and nods his head for him.

“Good, now mumble something in the affirmative and you’ll be on your way.”

“I… I… will never do this again… I swear it!”

Cat snaps her fingers and points to the truck as she saunters back to her own car. The red-booted rescuer heaves the man inside his vehicle and slams the door. He immediately takes off down the road.

“Nicely done, Supergirl.”

The beaming extraterrestrial takes an exaggerated stage bow. She then carefully walks over to her idol who is a little too composed after the frightening encounter.

“Are you okay, Ms. Grant?”

Cat instinctively folds her arms to catch her breath and keep from shaking. 

“I am fine, thanks to you… again.”  

“Would you like a hug?”  

“I would like a gin and tonic.”

“I believe a hug is less toxic to your liver.”

“Sadly, you cannot hug your problems away.”

“And drinking them away is better?”

“It’s more expedient.”

“I still don’t understand why you let him go?”

“The fear of what you might do to him will last ten lifetimes.”

“And what if it doesn’t?”

The media maven has her satellite phone in one hand and her phone camera in the other.

“I’ve already alerted the county sheriff to the situation and captured all of the necessary photos.”

“Of course, you always have a backup plan.”

“Regretfully, it will be difficult to prove his intent, especially without witnesses.”

  “Um, ideal witness, right here.”

“Absolutely not!”

Cat leans against the trunk of her car, slips her high heels back on, and shakes her head.

“My rivals in the press would make a circus out of this and paint you as my personal attack dog.”

“Woof woof.”

“Never bark in my presence again.”

“I’ll make a note of that.”  

Cat suddenly looks up at Supergirl because that phrase reminds her of Kara’s words.

“And how exactly did you know where to find me?”  

“Your assistant… she became worried when you didn’t show up to the gallery opening.”  

“Did she, now?”

“She sent me to look for you.”

“And here you are.”

  “Right where I’m needed the most.”

The two study each other’s body language for tells. Unable to resist the temptation, the icy tycoon melts her own demeanor by putting both phones away and striking a deliberately sensual pose on the trunk of her car. The game of Cat and her super mouse continues.

“Any ideas on how I should properly reward Keira for her concern?”

The statuesque blonde is momentarily dazed as her beautiful boss leans back and licks her lips. Supergirl manages to utter a sentence.

“Oh, uh, your safety is reward enough for Ka…”

She stops herself before saying her correct full name. Cat doesn’t miss a beat.

  “I’m sorry, what was that?”

  “Your safety is reward enough for your assistant.”

“Hmm, I’ll make a note of that.”

Supergirl sheepishly smirks as she hears her own words bounced back at her. They share an extra long glance as Cat wipes a bead of perspiration from her brow. The high temperature and higher drama is causing her silk chiffon dress to cling to every curve. The Kryptonian does not need her x-ray vision to notice.

“Would you like me to blow you, Ms. Grant?”

Cat nearly slides of the trunk of her car as Supergirl instantly realizes she left out a necessary word.

“ON you… blow ON you… with my frosty breath…”

The older woman tries to regain her composure as the younger woman continues her linguistic death spiral.

“Because, you know, you are so wet… sopping wet… absolutely drenched… all over… not that it’s gross or anything, because it’s not.”

“Stop talking.”

“I mean it’s because you’re really hot… I mean literally hot… and I would like nothing more than to get you off… COOL… cool you off.”

“Stop talking NOW.”

Cat inhales deeply because her suspicion about Kara being Supergirl is all but confirmed by the heroine’s blathering. However, Ms. Grant decides to patiently wait for Ms. Danvers to admit it freely.

“It might be best if you stick to speaking Kryptonese since your English is failing you miserably.”  

“I apologize… may I go back to my original offer of a hug?”

The CatCo CEO would love nothing more than a hug right now but she doesn’t trust herself with her feelings. In an attempt to halt the heat surrounding them, the older woman intensifies her gelid attitude. 

“An embrace is not an effective solution because the real world does not come with trigger warnings and even you cannot be my personal bodyguard 24/7… unless, of course, you found a way to split yourself in two.”  

Cat eyes her prey as she squirms a little. It’s now Supergirl’s turn to deflect.

“But is a gun really necessary?”

“I’m not thrilled by my actions but there is no physical way I could have overpowered him if I only had a knife or some other inert object.”

“You know how to use your words.”

“Possibly, but the pen is not always mightier than the sword… your own planet found this out the hard way.”

  The younger woman winces at the deceptive slap while the older woman immediately admonishes herself for being harsh.

“Forgive me, Supergirl, that was uncalled for.”

“I’m just worried about Carter… what if he found your gun?”

“He has no idea my gun or this car even exists.”

“One of your secret toys?”  

“Heh… one of many.”

The two chuckle.

“My son won’t know about this car - his grandfather’s car - until his 16th birthday and I can assure you it will be sans firearm.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.”

Cat appreciates Supergirl’s concern for her boy. In fact, she can understand why both of her sons are so attracted to this babyfaced bleeding heart before her. Yet, she does not need a life lesson from a nearly indestructible alien with a penchant for pizza.

“Sadly, when you have lived on Earth long enough, you will come to realize it’s the old cliché of hoping for the best but preparing for the worst.”

“What a horrible way to live.”

  “Maybe, but it also allows you to recognize and appreciate true goodness.”

Without losing eye contact, the media mogul steps over to her champion and takes her hand in hers. She squeezes gently.

“That snack food hauling lout was one of the worst but, you, Supergirl, are the very best of the best.”

Supergirl smiles and returns the squeeze.

“Thank you, Ms. Grant.”

“It’s like a pack of Gummi Bears gang banged a Thin Mint and you were born.”

Wrinkling her face in confusion, Supergirl tries to register that last statement while Cat returns to her previous perch on her trunk.

“Now, be a dear and go fix that wretched pothole before it takes out another unsuspecting motorist.”

“Sure thing.”

Hunting around for the right combination of rocks, Supergirl is enjoying her assigned task. She finds two large ones and effortlessly crushes them into makeshift gravel.

“This should work for now.”

Cat pretends to be unimpressed and reapplies her makeup. She furtively watches her favorite subject and murmurs out loud to herself.

“Mmm, all you need is an orange vest, a hard hat, and a jackhammer.”

Hearing every word, Supergirl spins around with a goofy grin.

“I don’t need a vest because my suit is colorful enough, I don’t need a hat because my head is hard enough, and my hands are ten thousand times more powerful than a pile driver!”

The media maven chokes on her own breath and nearly drops her lipgloss. She clears her throat, swallows hard, and attempts to act nonchalant.

“You’re not a state highway repair crew, there is no need for this to take six hours.”

“Almost done.”

Supergirl plucks the blown tire remnants from Cat’s car and melts them over the gravel-filled pothole with her laser eyes.

“Good to go.”

With the sealant all set, the younger woman dusts off her hands and places them on her hips in the iconic superhero stance. The older woman grabs her phone camera and takes several pictures.

“Gorgeous…”

“What are you doing?”

“It’s not as stylish as a James Olsen snapshot but this will do for the front page.”

Cat delights in her buzz worthy image and holds it up to the blushing original.

“You are insufferably adorable, Supergirl!”

“Is that going to be the headline?”

“More like: Supergirl Saves Taxpayers from Pernicious Pothole.”

“And the next day’s headline will be: County Supervisor Hangs Head in Shame.”

“You’re learning.”

  “Only from the best.”

The two mirror each other’s smile. The media queen turns serious and summons her stately minion.

“Come here.”

Without question or hesitation, Supergirl obliges. Cat is secretly exhilarated that this formidable being is at her beck and call. Her power trip only lasts a second because vulnerability has unexpectedly surfaced.

“I would like to take you up on that hug now.”

“Of course.”

The two envelop each other in a long, comforting embrace. The day’s events have caught up to Cat and with all of her turbid emotions on the verge of spilling over, she exhales slowly to keep them in check.

“Thank you.”

  “You never have to thank me, Ms. Grant.”

“I do… even if it is only out of proper etiquette.”

Cat gives her a quick peck on the cheek and muses.

“Hmm, definitely sunshine but not anise.”

A surprised Supergirl cocks an eyebrow.

“What was that for?”

“Testing a theory… and you didn’t flinch, that’s a start.”

The older woman starts to move away but the younger woman pulls her back.

“Well… according to every scientist I know, both here and on Krypton, it is extremely important for theories to be repeatedly tested in order to be proven.”

“Really?”  

“Uh-huh, so, feel free to test as many theories on me as you want.”

“Good, because I am a proud supporter of STEM.”

Instead of another chaste cheek kiss, Cat zeros in on Supergirl’s lips and devours them. She is stunned that the heroine’s smack back isn’t sweet or timid, but bold and aggressive. They continue to sample each other’s tongue until the human breaks for air.

“Mmm, luscious!”

  “Do you have enough oxygen in your lungs now?”

  Before Cat can answer, the Kryptonian plunges her tongue back inside. It is rhythmical and reaching. The pharyngeal foreplay continues until the media magnate’s moans dissolve into a fit of giggles. Baffled by the reaction, Supergirl ceases her advance.

“Is something wrong?”  

“No, no, everything is right - you have proven to me that there is a goddess - you taste like sunshine and my favorite French vermouth!”

“Ooo… kaaay.”

“Do I taste like embittered hag with notes of alprazolam to you?”

“Oh, is this really a thing that we’re doing?”

  “What?”  

“Testing to see what we taste like because I thought it was just a flimsy excuse to kiss.”

“I wouldn’t entirely say flimsy…”

Before she can speak another syllable, Cat’s mouth is being invaded again with large, sweeping strokes. She has to cross her legs to subdue a shudder. Supergirl temporarily retreats with a pensive look on her face.

“You taste like your favorite blueberry Greek yogurt… you know, the one that makes you go.”

“That’s enough.” 

“And… and… lighter fluid!”

“You need to go back to being a flying dry martini who doesn’t speak.” 

Cat yanks her back into a deep kiss and then licks the side of her face.

“Yum, where is an olive when you need one?”

Supergirl springs back and squeals with delight.

“OLIVES… I LOVE OLIVES.”

She is now dancing on her tiptoes in joyful circles.

“OLIVES, OLIVES, OLIVES…”

Watching the display with equal parts shock and awe, CatCo’s CEO rolls her eyes as the younger woman prattles on.

“Cerignola, Picholine, Kalamata - which also happens to be the name of my great grandma - the green ones with red thing in them…”

“Pimiento.”

“Yes, which is Kryptonese slang for garbage moon.”

  “Fascinating.” 

“And black olives - my sister fooled me into thinking they were finger protectors for when you typed on a keyboard.”

“Huh, I knew there was a dumb jock in there somewhere, let’s hope she reemerges in the bedroom.”

“I believed her for nearly a week until she told me to put them in my mouth… it rocked my world, my new world world!”

“Supergirl?”

“Yes, Ms. Grant?”  

“Are you hungry?”

“YES, MS. GRANT.”

“I figured as much.”

  “I mean, slamming into that truck didn’t help - all I could think about after saving you was chips, chips, chips, why am I doing manual labor without compensation, yogurt, and now olives.”

“I apologize, let me repay you for your heroics by buying out a restaurant or two.”

  “One should be enough, where are we going?”

  “There’s a great little barbecue joint about 15 miles east of here near the highway junction - I doubt they’ll have olives but there should be plenty of coleslaw.”

“COLESLAW, I LOVE COLESLAW… if coleslaw and olives got married and had babies, I would devour their babies!”

“Let’s hope the last part of that soundbite never ends up on a loop somewhere.”

“My sister told me coleslaw was wet confetti and to throw it at the neighbors to celebrate their arrival when they showed up on our porch.”

“Your sister must hate you.”

“Nah, she loves me but she might be a tad jealous.”

“Do you possess a mirror?”

The two chuckle as Cat opens the driver’s side door to her car and gets inside. Supergirl looks at the mangled wheel and then looks at the impatient passenger.

“What are you doing?”

  “Waiting for you, Easter Bunny, chop-chop.”

“I thought I was only flying us there?”

“You honestly expect me to abandon my father’s classic Jag on the side of the road to be picked over by putrid purloiners?”

An exasperated Supergirl sighs loudly.

“Such high maintenance, and I’m not only talking about the car.”

The neo-earthling focuses her red laser eyes and burns the House of El insignia on the side of the door. Cat is beyond horrified.

“You branded my auto!”

“You branded my life!”

“Fair enough…”

“That should stop thieves from even thinking about touching it.”

“Wrong, everyone is going to want to touch it now and steal it and own it… you need to brush up on your marketing lessons.”

“Shouldn’t your extraction team be here already?”

“I cancelled them because I knew you would give me a ride.”

“You, I’d give YOU a ride… I’m not a towing service.”

“Aww, do you need your cousin to help you out?”

Supergirl mutters a string of cuss words in Kryptonese. Cat is on a roll.

“Or maybe Batman, or Flash, or Wonder Woman - I hear she has an invisible jet… but with skill and patience, I am certain I could find it.”

“RAO ALMIGHTY, LADY, I WILL FLY YOU AND THE FREAKING CAR, TOO.”

“Grazie.”

The longer blonde strides over to the car and clicks the seatbelt across the shorter blonde’s lap.

“Safety, first.”

“I am a grown woman who is completely capable of strapping myself in.”  

“I don’t doubt that at all.”

Without straining herself, Supergirl repositions Cat’s red metal coach and begins to lift it in the air.

“Hold on tight, Ms. Grant.”

They hover a few feet off the ground. Cat is too busy filing a chipped fingernail to notice. She makes an attempt at justifying her request.

“I hope you understand that your efforts are not in vain.”

“Nope, nothing vain about a classic red Jag at all.”

“I meant vain as in pointless, not conceited.”

  “The word means the same in Kryptonese.”

Supergirl navigates them high enough in the air to see the lay of the land below while Cat sustains her chattering.

“You see, I love everything about this car - the freedom, the symbolism, the control.”

“Is that why you drove yourself tonight?”

“Believe it or not, I actually like driving without a chauffeur… it’s not only liberating but helps clear my mind.”

“Flying does the same for me.”

“Not all of us possess your aeronautical talents, therefore, it is the closest thing we have to feeling the wind in our hair.”

“Speaking of which, are you ready?”

Plotting the best course to the restaurant, Supergirl increases the velocity. A curious red-tailed hawk flies along side them for a second and then darts away. Cat playfully honks her horn.

“Mush!”

“I’m not a sled dog!”

“I seem to recall someone barking earlier."

"How about up, up, and away?”

“Eh, too trite.”

“Movin’ on up?”

“Already done.”

“What about…”  

“LOOK OUT.”


	5. Chapter 5

“LOOK OUT.”

Banking hard to the left, the car carrying Cat Grant dives dramatically to avoid a steel lattice tower with multiple power lines strung across it. Supergirl snickers as her alarmed passenger screams.

“DID YOU NOT SEE THAT TRANSMISSION TOWER???"

“I did and I wanted to make sure you did… up close!”

The CatCo CEO is not one for roller coasters, physical or emotional. And she certainly did not like being on one that should have been the equivalent of a pleasant tram ride. She steadies her breathing, calms her voice, and calls down to her ride operator.

“I said we were going to get barbecue, not be barbecued on the way there.”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Grant, there was a little something in my eye… something car shaped.”

“Wow, Supergirl, you are getting whiny… is it that time of the month - do you have those times of the month - not sure what actually constitutes a month on Krypton.”

“No, it isn’t and yes, I do… I’m surprised you can remember what that is like.”

“Ha, it appears my sarcastic wit is rubbing off on you.”

“I am sure more than your wit will be rubbing off on me soon.”

“Hmm, as long as it doesn’t involve olives.”

“Are you going to let the olive thing go?”

“Only if you let the car thing go.”

“Do you really want me to let the car thing go now?”  
  
“Not literally.”

They continue to soar through the air with less turbulence. The gentle motion and the stark quiet are both soothing and disconcerting to Cat. She absently flips on her car’s sound system. Natasha Bedingfield’s _Pocketful of Sunshine_ blares out of the speakers.

**_I got a pocket, got a pocketful of sunshine._ **

**_I got a love, and I know that it's all mine._ **

**_Oh, oh whoa_ **

“You have got to be kidding.”

**_Do what you want, but you're never gonna break me._ **

**_Sticks and stones are never gonna shake me._ **

**_No, oh whoa_ **

“Of all the possible song selections…”

**_Take me away (take me away)_ **

**_A secret place (a secret place)_ **

**_A sweet escape (a sweet escape)_ **

**_Take me away (take me away)_ **

 

**_Take me away (take me away)_ **

**_To better days (to better days)_ **

**_Take me away (take me away)_ **

**_A hiding place (a hiding place)_ **

 

“I’m sorry, this is just too on the nose for me.”

“I like it, don’t turn it off.”

“Of course you do.”  
  
“Did you expect me to like death metal?”  
  
“Well, you are the Girl of Steel.”

“Let’s sing along!”  
  
“Let’s not!”

“Singing is fun!”  
  
“Singing is for writers with a dearth of creativity and producers who want their talent to blow up on iTunes, there is no need for singing here.”

“Such a killjoy.”

“A killjoy would not allow this song to finish.”

**_The sun is on my side._ **

**_Take me for a ride._ **

**_I smile up to the sky._ **

**_I know I'll be all right._ **

“Happy now?”

“I’m always happy with you, Ms. Grant, even when you’re a demeaning grouch.”

Cat snaps off the music.

“Consider me the yin to your yang… speaking of all things Asian, I wanted to clarify American barbecue, not Mongolian - how much longer to the restaurant?”

“It’s up ahead, I can get us there quicker if I go faster.”

The unexpected zoom nearly gives Cat whiplash. As soon as she finds her breath, she yells at Supergirl.

“Your previous speed is preferred!”

“As you wish… I can smell the hickory from here.”

“It’s a good thing I didn’t go to that gallery opening or I would be smelling something else right now.”

“I think a charity event where the artist paints with his own feces to call attention to the plight of raw sewage in third world countries is admirable.”

“It’s a self indulgent excrement extravaganza.”

“That, too.”

“So, Supergirl, are you an art connoisseur now or did… Keira… tell you about it?”

“I… I… saw an ad.”  
  
“Mm-hmm, well, please remind me after we dine to instruct my assistant to purchase the most expensive poop painting on display and have it sent to Lois Lane as a birthday present.”

“You do know my cousin is in a relationship with her.”

“But you are not; in fact, it was your tongue down my throat earlier, so my loathing is now your loathing.”

Suddenly, the car comes to an abrupt stop midair. They continue to hover as a whirring mechanical object rapidly approaches them. The older woman squints and tries to make it out.

“That can’t be a helicopter, it’s too small.”  
  
The octave drop in the younger woman’s voice signals to Cat the seriousness of the situation.

“Ms. Grant, I am going to ask you to please crouch down in your seat as much as possible and cover your head.”  
  
“But…”  
  
“DO IT.”  
  
She follows the command but peeks out just enough to see over the steering wheel. What looks like a large, streamlined pizza box with handles and four propellers is now directly in front of them. A camera lens pans back and forth. Cat immediately recognizes the logo on the side.

“It’s Max Lord’s drone.”

“Stay down, it might be weaponized!”

The voice of the malicious mastermind squawks out of the camera speaker.

“If it were weaponized, there would be nothing left of your awesome ride… or the car.”

“What do you want, Max?”

“While you two are off playing ‘Holland and Sarah: Queers of the Desert,’ half of National City is on fire.”

A worried look crosses the Cat’s face while Supergirl is exuberant.

“I love Holland and Sarah, is their new album out?”  
  
“You’re mixing up your sapphic stars, darling.”

“Sorry.”

The drone inches closer and the voice crackles louder.

“You two make a pretty pair.”

“I am beyond the obvious right now, explain your supposed news or let us be.”

“Aren’t you afraid she’ll break your hips, Cat?”  
  
“This from a man who trucks in cheerleaders and sorority girls on a daily basis.”  
  
“I don’t truck them in… they are picked up by a Mercedes van with tinted windows and a full bar.”

Cat’s mouth automatically waters.

“Mmm, a full bar.”

“Gave you a little tingle, didn’t I?”

“More like neuropathy… is Mr. Lord’s statement true, Supergirl, is National City experiencing some kind of conflagration?”

The Kryptonian has her hand up to her ear and is listening intently.  
  
“According to my sis… source… it’s only one warehouse and it is totally contained.”

“Did you really flap all the way out here to bother us with this, Max?”

“What if it were true?”

“I will always believe Supergirl over a miscreant like you… so, again, what do you want?”

“Well, besides world domination, I wanted to invite you both to my personal Jacuzzi for…”  
  
Before he can finish, Cat grabs her revolver out of the glovebox and unloads every round into the drone’s propellers. It begins to plummet.

“You’ll pay for this, Caaaaaat!”  
  
“Send the bill to my accountant… goodbye, Max!”

Supergirl watches the drone drop into the dust below.

“You know I could have shot that down with my eyes, Ms. Grant?”  
  
“This felt more appropriate.”

“What did you ever see in that guy?”  
  
“An opportunity; you know how I am perceived as a heartless bitch or, in your own words, a demeaning grouch?”

“It’s not perception, it’s fact.”  
  
“Exactly, and what better way to temper heartless bitch than to stand next to a gaping asshole… just ask Hillary.”

“Ahh.”  
  
“Um-hmm.”

“You’re crafty.”  
  
“61.8 billion USD in assets agrees with you.”

“I am not going to hesitate ordering extra pie.”  
  
“Do you ever, my dear?”

Seconds later, they discretely land away from the barbecue establishment and trudge up the road to the side of the shack. The outside benches are filled with bikers, foodies, and the hipster hippies from earlier. One of them waves at Cat.

“Hey, you made it!”

They all eye Supergirl with surprise and curiosity. Cat shuts them down.

“She’s one of my celebrity lookalike coworkers, we’ll be opening up an outlet mall after our meal break.”

In an aside to Cat, Supergirl excitedly asks if they really are going to a mall opening. The media maven’s scowl provides the disappointing answer. The hipster hippie continues.

“Cool, she really does look like Supergirl, but not as muscular.”  
  
The younger blonde is offended while the older blonde sighs wistfully.

“Yes, I know.”

“For your information, Ms. Grant, there is enhancing contour padding in this suit… just like your bra.”

“Go order some food.”

Cat settles on a wooden bench far away from the quizzical looks of the other patrons. It has been quite the day and even she is feeling the gnawing ache of an empty stomach. Two mason jars of ice water are deposited on the table by an apathetic server. The media maven makes an unhappy face and lifts the beverage to her mouth.

“I am going to pretend there is vodka in you…”

After a few thirsty gulps, she clops down the jar and leans back in frustration.

“Nope, can’t pretend.”

A short time later, the Kryptonian ambles over with a massive grin and several tin plates overflowing with barbecue meat and sides. The human hungrily plucks a fried green tomato slice and begins to pop it in her mouth until she notices Supergirl possessively looking at the slice, then to her, then back to the slice, then to her again. Cat sighs and throws it back.

“I forgot to say ‘us’ as in go order US some food, didn’t I?”

“I did not hear that word and I have excellent hearing.”

While the empyrean daughter digs in, the exasperated media mogul gets up to place her order. She eventually returns with a rack of beef ribs, corn on the cob, and a bottle of beer.

Supergirl is amazed by the sight as she wipes her mouth on her sleeve.

“Wow!”  
  
“I know, it couldn’t possibly get more phallic.”

“You’re drinking beer, Ms. Grant?”  
  
“Desperate times and all… at least it’s not domestic.”

The older woman struggles with the bottle cap until she remembers who her dining companion is.

“Open your mouth, please.”

“I don’t drink alcohol.”

“Who said it was for you?”

“But…”

“Mouth, open, now!”

Supergirl complies as Cat carefully places the top between the Kryptonian’s teeth and uses her as a living bottle opener. The cap shoots across the patio and embeds in the side of the building.

“Thank you.”

The older woman chugs the entire beverage in under six seconds.

“Ahh, there you are my sweet little 4%, I have missed you.”

A naughty smile erupts on the younger woman’s face.

“That was kinda hot.”

“You should see me with a tequila bottle, it is positively x-rated.”

Cat now turns her attention to the ribs and ravenously attacks them while Supergirl adopts a squeamish expression and hides her head away. Cat licks her lips and stares.

“What’s wrong, Lollipop?”

“You eating ribs is not so hot.”  
  
“This from a girl who just inhaled an entire chicken.”

“But it looks like you’re eating a person.”  
  
“I can assure you that this is a very tasty cooked cow.”

She prolongs the torture by sticking one end of the rib in her mouth and slurping. Supergirl looks like she is about to throw up. Cat relents, dabs the corner of her lips with her napkin, and winks.

“So, Miss Universe, you’re young, stunning, and blonde… surely you've sucked the sauce off of many a bone before?”

“Is that your crude way of asking me if I have had sex?”

“Perhaps.”

“I am a superhero, not a nun.”

“Good for you!”  
  
“It falls somewhere between kale salad and laundry.”

“Not good for you, I’m so sorry… unless you enjoy kale salad and laundry?”  
  
“Who enjoys those?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Back on Krypton, there was an importance placed on compatibility but here on this planet, it’s all about the spark.”

“And are you still seeking said spark?”

Supergirl leans under the table, raises Cat’s dress above her knees, and gently puffs her frigid exhalation between her legs. The older blonde throws her head back and gasps while clutching the sides of the table to keep from falling over. The younger blonde reemerges with a coquettish grin.

“I’m trying to cool it off… for now.”

Cat nearly knocks over her ribs as she reaches for her water and guzzles it down to compose herself. A victorious Supergirl rises from her seat.

“I’m going to get you a knife and a fork, Ms. Grant.”  
  
“We are drinking out of jars, eating out of tins, and sitting on a bench with the words, ‘Donna is a whore’ carved into it and whore is spelled H-O-R… I don’t think we need to worry about… where… where did she go?”

Supergirl uses her super speed to fetch the utensils and sets them down next to Cat. She sighs and acquiesces, brandishing the fork.

“Who is high maintenance now?”

The extraterrestrial flashes that delightful grin that melts the human’s soul. As they continue to enjoy their meal, the dreaded conversation that Cat has been suppressing claws at her core to escape.

“I have a question, several actually, but we’ll start with one…”  
  
“Sure.”

“Even though your mother is gone, how does she still inspire you?”  
  
Supergirl drops her biscuit and slouches in her seat.

“Yikes, I wasn’t really ready for that.”  
  
“I apologize, was that too much?”  
  
“I was sort of hoping for what’s your favorite color.”

“Did you really expect me to ask something so banal?”

“Of course not, Ms. Grant… um, she inspires me everyday to get up, go up, and do what I do - do it better - be better.”  
  
“And you are.”  
  
“Thank you.”

The media queen reaches across the table and wipes a burgeoning tear from the corner of the celestial heroine’s eye with her thumb. The younger woman smiles and then remembers something from her childhood.

“Live life to teach others, love life to teach yourself!”

“Those are pretty profound words.”

“They are.”

“Eleanor Roosevelt or the Dalai Lama; I have a hard time remembering quotes when they're not my own.”

“It’s actually sage advice passed down to my mother from her family's great matriarch.”

“How poetic and fitting.”

“And what words of wisdom did your mother bestow upon you?”

The executive journalist ponders for a moment.

“Your face isn't the only thing that gets fat and saggy in your old age, save up for a labiaplasty.”

Supergirl furrows her brow. Cat continues.

“Not quite the same but true, nevertheless.”

The longer blonde shifts uncomfortably in her seat as the shorter blonde poses another question.

“Do you have maternal figures in your life now?”

“Plenty… my foster mother and sister, a talking hologram that looks like my birth mother, and my now-deceased aunt from Krypton - I am not lacking in the strong mom department.”  
  
“Well, that’s a relief.”

“Oh, now I see what you’re driving at… you want to know if I see you that way?”

“The thought did cross my mind.”  
  
“No, not at all!”  
  
The emphatic answer catches Cat off guard.

“Hmm.”

“Did you want me to see you as maternal?”  
  
“No, not exactly.”  
  
“I see you maternal with Carter and I know you care deeply for people, for your employees, and for me… I see you as an idol, a mentor, and a partner.”  
  
“I appreciate the clarification.”

“Why do you need it?”  
  
“The age difference is glaring, I could be your…”

“Grandmother if you were a slutty teen?”

“That’s pushing it.”  
  
“If you wanted to get technical about it, I am older than you based on Kryptonian years… except, you have more frown lines.”

“Oh, my God, stop!”

“Are you sure?”  
  
“As long as you don’t scream out ‘ay mami’ during the height of passion or require psychological coddling during nipple play, I am very happy to end this topic.”

“Deal!”

The two chortle as they finish their main course. A thoughtful Cat picks at the label of her beer bottle. Supergirl senses the mood change and stiffens.

“Is something wrong, Ms. Grant; do you need a tummy pill?”

“No one says tummy over the age of five and, I hate to admit it but boorish Max brings up a valid point about us being together during a National City crisis.”  
  
“It wasn’t a crisis.”  
  
“It could have been.”

“If it was, I would have been there.”

“You can’t be in two places at once… or can you?”

“I think it’s time for dessert.”  
  
Before Supergirl can scatter, Cat grabs her hand and forces her to sit back down.

“Please, answer the question, first!”

The younger woman takes a breath before meeting the older woman’s eyes.

“You know how first responders handle their jobs?”  
  
“What is your point?”  
  
“They have a whole team working together to help each other out, they also know they can’t save everyone all the time.”

“But, I never want to be a distraction in an emergency.”

The Kryptonian raises an eyebrow and covertly kisses the top of the human’s hand.

“You are always a distraction to me, no matter what the situation is.”

It takes a lot to get the great Cat Grant to blush but those were the magic words. Her voice is lower and barely audible.

“If I hadn’t untimely blurted out what you tasted like, we would still be on top of my car right now.”

Supergirl nods her head in agreement and waves her hands in a measured, musical manner.

“We be ridin’ high, we be ridin’ low, we be ridin’ ‘round the world, wherever you wanna go, uh!”

Cat slaps her hands down.

“Ow!”  
  
“Like that really hurt you.”  
  
“It did emotionally.”

“One: don’t ever try to be gangsta, you’re way too vanilla to pull that off; two: do you even know what ‘around the world’ means?”

“Of course, I do… I would take you up to the troposphere, high enough to fly but low enough so you won’t freeze or asphyxiate, and then we would circle the equator until we returned to National City.”

“Heh, yes, that is exactly what that means… you’re cute!”

“I have heard that before.”

“Finish it.”

“Like a million times.”

“There you go.”

“You know how else first responders are able to do their jobs?”

“How?”  
  
“They have someone to fight for, someone to come home to…”

“Would you like to come home with me, Supergirl?”  
  
“If you’ll have me, Ms. Grant.”

The CatCo CEO leans in and whispers in her champion’s ear.

“I’ll have you endlessly… let’s go.”

The older woman begins to rise but the younger woman remains seated.

“Ummm… would you mind if we got dessert, first?”  
  
Cat stares in silence.

“It’s just that Earth does desserts so much better than Krypton and they have something here called buttermilk chess pie!”

“Go, already.”

“I’ll be right back.”

And Supergirl is back within seconds with arms full of sweet treats.  
  
“Besides the pie, I have peach cobbler, apple stack cake, red velvet cupcakes, pecan squares, Mississippi mud bars, peanut butter cookies, and honey ham!”

The older woman makes a face at the last item. The younger woman explains.

“You know, for later.”

“Right… and which dessert is mine?”

Supergirl has the same blank expression from earlier when she forgot to order for Cat. The shorter blonde sighs and rolls her eyes as the longer blonde pokes her middle finger in the pie, scoops it out, and then flirtatiously presents the covered tip of it.

“Here!”

“Need I remind you, we have an audience.”

“Okay, more for me.”

Supergirl starts to pull her hand back but it is grabbed by Cat who seductively places the finger in her mouth and works it while never breaking eye contact with its owner. The heroine’s jaw drops as several of the male patrons and a few female ones take notice. The icon finally finishes and returns the weakened hand.

“Mmm, scrumptious!”

“Err… umm… I… am suddenly very jealous of your rib bone from before.”  
  
“Heh, I have never fed off an alien finger covered with pie before… although, I did do a foreign national in a hot tub filled with flan, once.”

“Don’t really need to hear that story right now.”  
  
“So, of all the different varieties of pie, which kind do you prefer, Kara, or has this buttermilk one won you over?”

“It is truly hard to pick just one, I thought it was cherry, then apple, but this pie is amazing - there’s freaking molasses in there - but, I have to say, there is this key lime… OHHH, nooooooo!”

Supergirl smacks herself in the head as she realizes her mistake. Cat smugly sits back because she just swallowed the red and blue clad canary.

“You responded to being called Kara as if it were the most natural thing in the world… as it should be.”

The panic-stricken Kryptonian doesn’t know if she should deny it or pretend she didn’t hear it or simply fly away. The human grasps both of her hands in hers and calmly moves closer.

“Kiss me, Kara… kiss me before this spins even more out of our control.”

Supergirl lunges at Cat and the two kiss passionately, not caring about the astonished gasps and wolf whistles from the other patrons. The older woman breaks first and catches her breath.

“Do you still want to finish your dessert?”  
  
The younger woman emphatically shakes her head no.

“Do you want to get out of here and go back to my place?”  
  
The younger woman emphatically nods her head yes.

“Let’s go.”

Before they leave, Cat sticks her middle and index fingers in the pie and shoves them in Supergirl’s mouth.

“Here… one for the road.”

She unexpectedly feels a searing pain as she pulls back her fingers. To her horror, she discovers fleshless, bony stumps where the digits used to be. Supergirl licks her lips.

“Mmm, needs a bit more cinnamon.”

Cat gapes at her hand and shrieks.

“AAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHH.”


	6. Chapter 6

“AAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHH.”

Cat Grant jerks awake inside the puny, windowless office she gave to her assistant. She checks to see if she still has all of her fingers; she does. She then wipes the drool off of her mouth and rubs her eyes.

“Major note to self… stop mixing top-shelf spirits with SSRIs.”

Kara Danvers, clad in her glasses and usual nondescript office attire bursts through the door carrying a small duffle bag. She immediately runs over to her boss.

“Ms. Grant, Ms. Grant, are you okay?”  

“Oh, I know I this isn’t a dream anymore… you are here and you are wearing that plaid monstrosity.”

  “It’s more of an argyle.”

“What’s in the bag?”

  “Workout clothes, yoga mat, lipgloss, keys, a coupon for a free sandwich…”

“Stop, I lost interest after I asked the question - new question: why am I here?”

“Are you bring literal or existential?”

“Whatever induces the quickest response.”

“You fell asleep in my office, taking a little Cat nap, hee hee.”

The CatCo CEO narrows her eyes and reclines in her seat.

“I feel asleep… where?”  

Kara guffaws with a wide, goofy grin.

“In my office?”  

“Try again.”

  “In the office you gave me?”

Cat casually crosses her legs and silently shakes her head no. Kara clears her throat and offers a different response.

“In our office?”

“One more time.”

The defeated younger blonde slumps her shoulders and looks to the floor.

“In your office, Ms. Grant.”

“That’s right, Keira, my office - all of these are my offices - this one just happens to be the space I have designated for you to work in.”  

“Of course, Ms. Grant.”

“Some friendly advice, when you become CEO of your own company…”  

Totally giddy, Kara clasps her hands and cuts her off.

“You really think I’ll be CEO of my own company someday?”

“Not if you interrupt other, more powerful CEOs.”  

“I’m so sorry, sorry, please continue.”

“As I was saying, when you become CEO of your own company and you design your office, never ever choose the glass fishbowl style.”  

“Too much light?”

  “That, and people can catch you sleeping… and masturbating.”

Kara bites her bottom lip and looks away. Cat continues.

“I needed someplace dim and quiet to reflect and, apparently, I must have fallen asleep.”

“And I am honored that when you thought of dim and quiet, you thought of me.”

Cat blinks at her. Babbling Kara of the wild hand gestures returns.

“I mean, that you chose to fall asleep in my off-, um, the space you have designated for me to work in, Ms. Grant.”  

“I apologize if I forced you to sit at your prior work station.”  

“Actually, I was sitting right outside on the floor, waiting for you to wake up.”

“Aww, how cute in a pathetic doormat kind of way.”

A quizzical looks crosses Kara’s face as she steps closer to Cat.

  “It’s weird, I had my own dream as well but it seemed so real.”

  “Do share.”

“I think I was trapped in the cantina from Star Wars…”

  “Hmm, you’re not the only one I know who has had this dream.”

“And James Olsen replaced you at CatCo.”

“Honey, that's a delusion not a dream.”

The assistant begins to pace back and forth.

“Snapper Carr was throwing pennies in a can.”  

“He must have been counting his journalism salary.”

“And Lucy Lane looked different, kept calling herself by another L-name and she had this bizarre accent that faded in and out.”

Stifling a yawn, Cat swivels in the chair.

“That’s a fret.”

“Oh, and Maxwell Lord vanished into thin air.”

“Is that really a bad thing?”

“And then I was surrounded by manly mannequins who tried to have their way with me.”

The younger blonder halts and shivers as the older blonde chuckles.

“Ah, yes - The Ken Doll Orgy - I have had that dream countless times.”

Kara crinkles her face and dry heaves. Cat muses.

“Sadly, I ended up married to two of them… save yourself the disappointment, Keira, there is a reason why they are not anatomically correct.”

“I’ll make a note of that.”

  “I had a feeling you would say those exact words.”

Cat smirks at Kara as the oblivious assistant pouts.

“And then my sister went south of the border, it seemed very sudden and forced, but I didn't find myself caring all that much because it wasn’t about me, and, to tell you the truth, I always found her a bit boring.”

“Huh, and I thought my abrupt vaginal dryness was due to a hot flash but then I realized we were having this conversation.”

Cat starts to stand as a wide-eyed Kara folds her arms and inquires.

“So, you don’t want to know what I dreamed about you?”

Cat instantly plops back down in her seat.

  “Go on.”

“You had this unexpected urge to go diving.”

“Unless it was in the Seychelles or off of the side of my building, it seems very unlikely.”

“You left me on my own.”

  The somber tone of the assistant’s voice touches the CEO’s heart. Cat looks directly at Kara and reassures her with a soft smile.

“I am certain I wouldn't have done so if I didn’t think you could handle it, Ms. Danvers.”

There is a long pause as Kara mirrors Cat’s smile until she remembers more of her dream.

“And then women over the age of 35 slowly started to disappear.”  

“We’re in National City, dear, not Hollywood.”

“That’s when I heard you screaming, I woke up and rushed inside.”

“And what about Supergirl?”  

“Wh…what about her, Ms. Grant?”  

“Where was she in your dream?”

  Kara grows nervous as Cat watches.

“Who… who said Supergirl was in my dream?”

  “I’m sorry, I just assumed since you pretty much had everyone else in your dream.”

  “I did not dream about Floyd in accounting!”

“I was unaware we even had a Floyd in accounting.”

“You call him Rodolfo.”

“Ah, yes, Rodolfo… he is an odd duck, isn’t he?”

  “And his name is Floyd.” 

“Back to Supergirl.”  

“What, what about her?”  

“So, she wasn’t in your dream?”  

“No, no, no, no.”

  “Heh, well I suppose that’s because she was too busy in mine.”  

The unmistakable double entendre in Cat’s voice causes Kara to nearly bite her own lower lip off.

“Uhh… ow… ahem, um, so how exactly was Supergirl, you know, busy, in your dream?” 

Cat shoots her a silent glare of ‘Do I really need to spell it out for you?’ Kara splutters in disbelief and then tries to clarify.

“I mean, is she busy doing superhero stuff like rescuing people or ordinary stuff like gardening?”

“Yes, Kiera, that is exactly what she is doing… gardening.”  

“Ah.” 

“Gardening… between my legs.”  

“Aaaaahhhhh.”

“Okay, you caught me, I was down here having wild sex dreams about Supergirl.”

Kara squeaks two octaves higher.

“You… Supergirl… sex?”

“I have had nothing but wild sex dreams about Supergirl for awhile now.”

“Oh, Rao!”

“What did you say?”

“Uh, wow?”

“No, you distinctly said Rao, Supergirl’s sun god.”

“Did I?”

“You did, and unless you recently arrived from the Shandong Province or had a cerebral infarction, why would you say Rao instead of wow?”

“Slip of the tongue… a tongue that is rapidly going numb.”

“Funny, Supergirl said those precise words in my dream after one of our many balcony bangs.”

Kara gulps.

“There’s… balcony sex?”  

“Yes, that is where my super ribald reveries take place, on the balcony.”

More indecipherable squeaks and gurgles from the younger blonde as the older one sighs.

“Forgive me, Keira, I don’t mean to hold you captive with these hormonal rantings.”

“I’m not going anywhere, and I think it would be very beneficial to discuss these sex dreams in explicit detail.”

“Well, if you insist…”

“I absolutely insist and, I could even, you know, reenact some of those moments for you… if you think it would help.”

“Unfortunately, this last one started out as a sex dream that became a cautionary tale wrapped in a food binge and then ended up as a nightmare.”

“Why a nightmare?”

  “She ate two of my fingers off.”

“Aww, Supergirl would never eat you, Ms. Grant… unless you wanted her to.”

“I believe that is the point of these dreams… also, to confront a reality that is literally staring me in the face.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”  

Cat bolts up out of her chair and comes within centimeters of Kara.  

“Do you believe a moron built this empire, yes or no?”

“N-n-no, no.”

“Correct answer.”

The assistant does not resist as her boss slides her glasses off and loosens her hair.

“Now, take off your revolting sweater.”

“But…”  

“Please.”

“Okay.”

The younger blonde obliges the request. The older one seductively fingers the buttons on the plain Oxford shirt underneath.

“Let’s see what we have here…”

Kara gasps for air as Cat unfastens two of the buttons. Growing impatient, she now rips the rest of the shirt open.

“Wait… where is it?”

Cat’s hands are desperately searching every inch of skin on Kara’s torso as the assistant mumbles.

“Aaah-are… you looking for a third boob?”  

“I am looking for something else.”

  “Take your time.”  

Completely befuddled, Cat strips Kara naked.

“Hmm, that’s confounding.”

“This is usually where I get compliments.”

  Lunging forward, Cat bites Kara hard on the shoulder.

“YEEOOOWW… WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE?”

Cat immediately backs away and is stunned by the sight of the bite mark.

“I am so sorry, I didn’t expect that to hurt you.”

Kara steps closer to Cat.

  “I only asked what is happening here… I didn’t say for it to stop.”

She leans in and licks Cat on the side of the neck. The older blonde is suddenly rigid as the younger one now notices.

“Um, is sex supposed to be taking place or have I totally misread the cues?”

“You have not.”  

“Oh, I see, we are acting out your dream… do I need props?”

Cat kisses her several times on the lips.

“No, no props and, don’t worry, there will be plenty of sex.”

“Thank you for the verification.”

Kara returns the kisses until Cat breaks away again.

“But, I am concerned that you are not yourself today.”

“Well, I am a bit under the weather, it’s raining out and I prefer the sun.”

  “Uh-huh.”

It is now Kara’s turn to strip Cat naked. She takes in the beauty before her and gently carries her over to the desk.

“Yet, I am feeling really, really, really good at the moment.”

“Lock the door, Kara.” 

“Yes, Ms. Grant.”  

“And it’s time for you to call me Catherine.” 

“Yes, Catherine.”

CLICK.


End file.
